


The Hanged Man

by muggle95



Series: The Star's Journey [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Behind the Scenes - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon Compliant, Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen, Hogwarts, implied torture - the blood quill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-10-27 09:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17764259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muggle95/pseuds/muggle95
Summary: Tarot: the Hanged Man represents enlightenment, a major change in perspective, truthAstoria begins to see a harsher side of the world that Ginny has been familiar with for years. They are both determined to make things better





	The Hanged Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [honeymink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeymink/gifts).



>   
> The Hanged Man: enlightenment, a major change in perspective, truth
> 
> Again, many thanks to [copperscales](http://copperscales.tumblr.com/) and [Mint](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintchocolateleaves) for their help perfecting this work
> 
> copperscales reminded me that to people unfamiliar with tarot this title might be a bit intimidating, and I didn't entirely ignore their advice (the card meaning is now in the summary as well as in this note), but I didn't change the title either. If that was still off-putting for a rated-Teen fic, that's entirely on me

Astoria bit her lip as hard as she dared without drawing blood, trying to stem the tears she could feel prickling in her eyes. She was rushing through the library, risking Madam Pince’s wrath and ignoring all of her friends that tried to make eye contact. There was only one person she trusted with the topic weighing on her mind. They didn’t revise together as much this year, but they still managed a good revision about one Saturday a month, scheduling around quidditch and Hogsmeade weekends and Ginny’s irregularly scheduled “prior commitments” that she never elaborated on, and Astoria was too polite to push.

Finally, in a quiet corner near the back of the library, she found who she was looking for. Ginny was poring over an assignment, chatting quietly with another girl with shockingly blond hair, brighter than even Malfoy’s. Astoria vaguely recognized her as another fourth year, who she’d seen with Ginny before but hadn’t met. Both girls glanced up at her, startled, as she rounded the corner and approached their table. Maybe she was being a little louder than she meant to be. She didn’t much care at the moment. Astoria dropped unceremoniously into a chair nearer to Ginny without even a word of greeting.

Ginny turned what might have been an unimpressed glare on Astoria, but when their eyes met, it melted away, replaced with concern. “Astoria? What’s wrong?”

“The wrackspurts are really giving you trouble, aren’t they?” Ginny’s friend asked, looking right at Astoria with eyes that seemed to See her even more deeply than Professor Trelawney’s did. “I’ll see you tonight, Ginny,” the girl said, collecting her things, and without waiting for a response from either of them, seemed to float away down the row.

“Yeah, I’ll see you _at dinner_ ,” Ginny called after her, before returning her gaze to Astoria, who could read Ginny’s tone well enough to know that wherever the others would be meeting, it wasn’t dinner.

“The _what_ are giving me trouble?” Astoria asked, briefly startled out of her distress.

“I find it easier not to ask,” Ginny answered with a wry twist of her lips before repeating, “what’s wrong?”

“How can they be so heartless?” Astoria blurted, feeling the tears return full force. She couldn’t stop them this time.

“Who?”

“My housemates – the other Slytherins,” Astoria explained. “They’re saying she deserved it just for being a – a – but she _doesn’t_. No one does!”

“Who deserved what?” Ginny urged, gently but firmly.

“Andrea Westfeld, a Hufflepuff first year,” Astoria took a deep breath, and it didn’t stop the tears but it made it easier to speak. “She had detention with Umbridge and her hand it was – it was…” It was a bloody mess; it looked horrifying. Ginny winced in understanding, and glanced at pale lines on the back of her own hand that Astoria hadn’t noticed until today. No, she couldn’t let that distract her or she’d never get the words out. “And – and they – they say she deserves it just because she’s a mu– mu…” She had never shied away from using the word mudblood before, but today it tasted bitter on her tongue. She couldn’t stand to say it even to quote the others. Not when the word had been spat with such vitriol towards an innocent eleven-year-old who had done nothing to earn such ire.

“A muggleborn,” Ginny concluded softly.

Astoria nodded. “No one deserves that,” she whispered urgently. “Especially not someone so young. It doesn’t matter what her blood status is.”

“Doesn’t it?” Ginny asked, and Astoria almost panicked until she recognized that Ginny was just playing Morgana’s advocate, and giving her a chance to explain herself.

“It doesn’t!” she repeated fiercely, though she was recovering enough self-awareness to keep it at a whisper. They were still in the library after all. “ _No one_ deserves torture as detention, or for being – for who their family is,” and being forced to spill your own blood couldn’t be anything but torture. “I’d – I’d rather be a mud – a muggleborn than be associated with people who think that’s okay!”

Ginny nodded, looking somehow both fierce and approving. “I’ll make sure she gets some Essence of Dittany,” she promised. “It’s the best thing for magically induced wounds, and the… Well, I know where to get some.”

Astoria nodded, wiping ineffectively at her cheeks. “How can they be so heartless?” she repeated.

Ginny grimaced, a bitter mockery of a smile. “If you don’t think someone is a person, it’s a lot easier to not care about their pain.”

“How do you know that?” It rang true of course. Many purebloods _did_ talk about muggles as though they were animals, and their magical descendants as barely better, but Ginny said things like that too often: things that were crueler and harsher than Astoria had ever known her friend to be, but which provided surprising insight into something darker

Ginny’s expression turned dark and distant, but then she shook her head sharply as though to chase something out of it. The ensuing silence nearly stretched long enough to be awkward, before Ginny started packing her homework into her bag and turned back to Astoria to ask. “Are you okay? Can you get yourself to dinner okay?”

The tears had stopped, but Astoria didn’t know if she was okay, or what okay even meant anymore. Her entire world had been turned upside down. She shrugged, wiping again at her wet cheeks.

Ginny pulled her into a tight hug. “It’ll be okay, I promise. Take care of yourself,” she instructed, pulling back just enough to look Astoria in the face until she nodded. “Good.”

Ginny walked off, glancing back briefly over her shoulder, and Astoria pulled out a mirror and her wand, to discreetly cast some refreshing charms to restore her puffy, bloodshot eyes to a presentable state and to properly dry her cheeks. She didn’t know why Ginny’s reassurance was so convincing, but somehow, Astoria believed that things really would be okay.


End file.
